Diary of a Former Werewolf
by KitKat2222
Summary: This is not a love story. Sure, there's some love in it. But it's also about friendship. About acceptance. About forgiveness. But mostly, it's about how I, Leah Clearwater, lost then subsequently regained my heritage all in the course of one summer. L/OC
1. Introduction

_Hello- Thanks for checking this out! I just wanted to do a disclaimer and say that I do not, in any way, own these characters or this story. They belong to Stephanie Meyer. I'm just exploring with them for awhile :-)_

**_~.~.~_**

**Introduction**

**Leah Clearwater**  
><strong>November 12, 2022<strong>  
><strong>Port Angles, WA<strong>

If you're looking for a love story, than you should stop reading now. Seriously. Go ahead. I sure as heck hate being forced into things I don't want to do. So I'm letting you know that it's ok to walk away right now. Go back to your mushy romance novel if that's what you want.

As I've just said, this is not a love story. Well, ok. Maybe there's some love in it. There are definitely some gooey, fluffy parts that kinda make me want to vomit, especially after being forced to relive them a second time. But mostly, this is about friendship. About acceptance. About forgiveness. About coming to terms with some situations that just really sucked.

But most of all, this is a story about how I, Leah Clearwater, both completely renounced my heritage and then subsequently regained it all in the course of one summer.

My life did get crazy towards the end of my teenage years. I lost my boyfriend to my cousin, and my dad to a heart attack. I had an annoying brother who never left me alone, the looming terror of what to do with my life after high school, and the small matter of being a 19-year-old Indian woman who could explode into fur ball at any moment. But in reality, those events became balled up into a singular phase in my life. They were just the short beginning of a very long list of events, of phases, that would come to form my adult life.

And enough with this focus on my past. You've already heard about that. Everyone has heard about that. They've cast me as both a martyr and a monster. I know that that phase of my life will be retold as a legend generations from now. Everyone will know about the fantastical, bitter she-wolf. I will be put on display as a puppet for generation after generation of children to look at.

But I refuse to let that part of my past define who I am entirely. I am more than that part of my life. I am better than that part of my life.

So, what I'd like to tell you is a story of a different kind. You see, when I look back at what's happened in my life, I do think about my dad, and Sam, and being a wolf. But I also think about my life at Penninsula Community College, then in good old Connecticut, then out in Seattle. I think about my now husband, and my young son.

But, more than anything else, my mind always seems to jump to the summer after my college graduation.

And so, I invite you to follow me. Embark on another phase, if you will. I want to show you something.

Let's have an adventure.

**~.~.~**

_Let me know what you think, if you want! I'm always open to suggestions and constructive criticism, but I'll never push you for reviews. Don't get me wrong, I do love reviews, but I, of all people, understand that everyone's very busy! :-) I'll (hopefully) see you before the end of the month for a new chapter! _


	2. Chapter 1

_Hello! Here's chapter 1! Enjoy! :-) As always, I do not own any of the characters (minus Cassie), the University of Connecticut, the University of Washington, or anything Twilight related._

**~.~.~**

**Chapter 1  
><strong>

**May 5, 2012  
><strong>**Cassie Smith  
><strong>**Mansfield Apartment Complex  
><strong>**Storrs, CT**

"_You want a friend in Washington? Get a dog."  
><em>_President Harry S. Truman_

Is there ever a worse time of year than University Finals? Seriously. UConn is normally so vibrant, so full of life and energy. People are always running around, laughing, chatting about classes, boyfriends, and what to do over the weekend. During games, exalted cheering often fills the air in every dormitory common room, and people stay up hours afterwards, either toasting to the team's success or lamenting over a "rare" loss. It's an exciting place to be.

But bring in finals, and all of the sudden, everything stops. A hush falls over campus, and excited shouts and late nights spent out at the bar or in the Union become "shushes" in the Library and all-nighters by the computer. The verdant campus suddenly gets thrown into a grey fog of panic and everyone retreats into these horrible library cubicles, becoming as banal and depressing as the off-white paint that peels from the walls.

Of course, as seniors, Leah and I don't have it quite so horribly. We've both been received places up at the University of Washington in Seattle. Leah's gotten herself a spot at the elite Interdisciplinary Graduate Program in Nutritional Sciences, and I'm gonna be studying Leadership in Higher Education, Special Education. It all sounds super official, but basically, it just means that we've stopped really caring about specific grades because we're moving on to something much more exciting next year. Of course, we do have to graduate, which is how we find ourselves wasting what could have been a perfectly exciting Saturday studying.

I glance over at my roommate. Leah, being Leah, is sprawled out across the carpeted floor of our apartment. Her stuff is everywhere- crumpled papers, some thrown strewn in different corners, each its own testament to her frustration over not understanding or hating some arbitrary idea; a stray textbook lying under her foot; her backpack, which is now functioning as a pillow. I briefly wonder how she can function like that. Crazy girl.

Leah and I met during transfer student orientation. And I mean, "met" in the most casual sense of the word. I don't actually remember meeting her, nor does she remember meeting me, but we later realized that we were in the same orientation group. So, at some point that day, we had to have met. And one would have thought we would have at least noticed one another, anyway.

But we didn't. And so, we went into the summer blissfully unaware of what our roommate would be like. I spent the entire time on the beach at our Cape Cod house. Leah spent the entire summer working. What she worked on, she never talked about again, so I only had to assume that it was either too awful to mention, or to boring to waste the time on.

That first day was awful. We hardly talked at all as we moved in to our tiny dorm room. I guess I was scared of her. She looked so…severe. I guess that's the only way to put it. Tall, imposing, with short, fiery red cropped hair and absolutely bizarre blue colored contacts. I only asked her questions when I absolutely had to, and her answers were always direct, simple. _Yes or no. Top. I'll take that side. You need this?_ I was amazed when I first heard her string three words together.

I look down at the floor, and really _look_ at my roommate, trying to decide what I saw then. It's sort of hard. She's different now, I guess. She's grown her hair out a little. It's back to its normal color. The color contacts she came in wearing have disappeared. But more than that, she looks…contented. And suddenly, I feel happy for her. Really, really happy. She's grown so much since I've known her. But then, so have I.

I realize that I'm smiling some stupid grin, just in time for Leah to look up from some article reading, The Dangers of Supermarket Supplements and say, "What're you starin' at?"

I look at her in mock horror, "Look at those poor papers. What did they ever do to you?"

She mimics me, mock horror and all, "They're annoyin' me, that's what. Messing with my brilliant concentration. You know, in here." She points to her temple.

I snort, "Brilliant. Right." The textbook misses my head by a couple inches, and I jump. Secretly though, I'm not concerned. If Leah had wanted it to actually hit me, it would have hit me. She has scary good hand-eye coordination when she wants to. I've definitely seen that.

"Smith?" Leah is frowning down at her paper, face contorting into an expression of upmost confusion. I'm surprised. It's not like Leah to admit confusion, or any other "weak" emotion, really.

"Yes?" I ask cautiously.

"Why are we doin' this again?"

I nearly snort with laughter, but somehow manage to tighten my facial muscles just enough so that they stay mostly straight. Mostly. "Well Leah, I'd guess I'd say that we're doing this so we can begin grad school up in Washington."

"Which means more of this crap."

"Well…pretty much, yeah."

"Why do we put up with this?" she groans, turning onto her back and managing to further destroy her already crumpled up papers.

"Because we're masochists?" I offer.

She smirks. "I'll take that. We're masochists. Nice."

"Glad to be of service…" I mumble. Something shiny catches my eye out the window- the sun off a passing car maybe? It's such a nice day outside- perfect beginning of summer weather. We should be at the beach, not cooped up inside our dumb apartment studying. I imagine myself lying out on Cape Cod, sunning myself lazily. The water might be cold, but I could still go for a swim, if I got to hot.

As my mind wanders all over the beach, I begin to realize that I'm done being productive for a little while. I stretch my arms up to the ceiling, letting out a huge sigh. T-minus seven days till graduation.

I look outside, and it occurs to me that we haven't picked our mail up yet today. A walk is just what I need to clear my head. I stand, readjusting my rather grungy sweatpants.

"I'm either going to the beach or getting our mail from the mailroom." I announce. "Honestly, it could go either way at this point." I chuckle at my really lame joke, and then added, "Need anything?"

Leah, who had rather wisely been ignoring me, shakes her head, "I'm good. Now get outta my hair so I can do some real work, Smith."

"Finnne finnne. But you know you'll miss me!" I hear the beginning of what promised to be a great retort, but, alas, I'd already closed the door on my friend. I smirk. If there's one thing that bothers Leah, it's being walked out on.

**~.~.~**

_I'll see you next week! Let me know what you think!_


	3. Chapter 2

_Here's chapter 2- And I do not own Leah, or anything Twilight related. Nor do I own the anonymous quote at the top of the page. :-)_

**~.~.~**

**Chapter 2**

**Leah Clearwater  
><strong>**May 3, 2012  
><strong>**Mansfield Apartment Complex  
><strong>**Storrs, CT**

"_When life gives you lemons, make orange juice. Let the world wonder how you did it." _

Stupid roommate. Slamming the door before I can get my awesome retort out- and she knows how much this bothers me. Guess I deserve it though. I did throw that textbook at her…

The outside air has escaped into the room, and its scent crushes me. Some vendor outside is selling something deep-fried and delicious down below. And even though it's only May, it feels like late summer. Hot, humid, and really freaking sticky.

It's always hard for me to focus when it's hot and sticky like this. And today it's no different. Deep fried food, hot air…summer is definitely coming, ready or not.

Fried dough….Anytime I smell that sickly rich smell, I think about that time dad took me and Seth to this giant fair down in Yakima. It took us five hours to get there on the hottest day of the summer. And our car didn't have a damn air conditioner, either. We got there, and we were drenched in sweat. Freaking gross, right?

And it wasn't even that great, really. It was a typical hick fest- weird animal contests, eating contests, booths with bored-looking housewives trying to guilt us into taking something home. Definitely not what 12-year-old me wanted to do. I'd wanted to go surfing that afternoon. I think I whined a lot about that.

But Dad was adamant that we enjoy the day with him. It was something from his childhood, he kept reminding us. And so we were forced to keep up with him, just like we were forced to sit around the fire and listen to the legends as children. It was all so boring then.

Anyway, Dad tried to make sure that we had fun that day. He bought us fried Oreos, and Seth won this really stupid looking, giant stuffed banana. It's still probably the dumbest thing I've ever seen. Ever. And I wanted to go on the giant drop ride, but Dad refused to let us go on the rides because of some incident involving a screwed up bolt the year before.

The really messed up thing is that now, all I can think about when I think back to that sticky, wonderful summer day is that Dad was wrong. It wasn't the rides that could kill. It was the Oreos. In the end, that's what got him.

Stupid fried food. I look down at my notes. Nutrition. The art of eating. Now, of course, I know every bit of what was happening inside Dad. I know that all of the fried food was slowly killing him, one greasy, plaquey macromolecule at a time. I know what was building up in his arteries, slowly making his heart work harder and harder. I know that mom didn't mean to be a pain when she yelled at him about eating six hotdogs and no lettuce. And I know that eventually, his heart just got too tired to keep up with his lifestyle. It just crashed.

I shake my head. Now is so not the time to get into that. I have 2 exams left, and then I'm completely free for the next few months! Of course, I know I'm not free. Mom wants to get married at some point, and as her daughter, I have an obligation to help, or something. Not that Mom's been fussy. She's even talked about bringing Charlie, me, and Seth, to Vegas, and just doing the ceremony there like that, quick and dirty.

And I'm really glad Mom came up with the idea of a destination wedding. Because I'm sure as hell never going back to La Push. Believe me. Heading towards University of Seattle is way too close for comfort, and that's three hours away from LaPush. Any closer, and I'd go the same way Dad did. I think, despite the fact that she fusses that I need to come home, stop screwing around and "face my destiny," that Mom understands why I can't come home.

I glance back down again. Ugh. Nutrition final. I'm studying an "exposé" on Vitamin D that I was supposed to read two months ago, but never got around to. It's heavy reading, and fairly interesting. I try to absorb myself in my notes.

And maybe I get a little _too _absorbed. I absorb myself so much that I fall asleep and don't even hear Carrie enter the apartment. She gets all the way to the kitchen and shouts "Boo!" And I freaking jump. Really? And this is me we're talkin' about here. The girl with super hearing.

Carrie is freaking thrilled that she's startled me. I guess I can't blame her. I do the same thing to her all the time. Once she stops her stupid laughing, she manages to hand me an envelope. "This was in the mailbox for you."

I roll my eyes at my tiny blonde best friend. "Hopefully it's Mom's official congratulations on my graduation. She said she was proud of me over the phone a few months ago. Heck, she even said that she wished she could be here, but it's expensive and she has to take care of Seth. And he sure as heck ain't cheap." I chuckle. Last time I talked to Mom, she told me that Seth's been going through three freaking shirts a week, and slowly eating her into bankruptcy.

I rip apart the envelope. Inside is a think white piece of paper with words embellished in silver,

_Dear Family and Friends_

_We hope you will join us for the union of_

_Charlie Swan_

_And _

_Susan Clearwater_

_Tuesday, June the Twelfth_

_In the year Two thousand and Twelve_

_Half past Seven in the Evening_

_First Beach, La Push_

_Dinner and dessert to follow_

I read it twice, because I need to make sure that I'm not having some sort of crazy, messed up delusion.

I'm not. This really is a wedding invitation. For my Mom. What. The. Freak.

She had told me that she was thinking about going away, the last time I talked to her. Ok, so, that was last month. Or two months ago. And, ok, I've been ignoring her calls recently. Whatever. She still should have given me a head's up that she was planning on stabbing me in the back. How dare she?

Carrie is looking at me curiously. I realize that she's stopped moving entirely. She knows something is wrong, but she's quiet about it. She doesn't press. She knows better. She's understood by now that there are some things that I just can't talk about, although she doesn't understand what they are or why.

But this time, she needs to know. "Mom's getting married." I finally manage to spit out.

Carrie raises an eyebrow. "To who?" she simply asks. Leave it to her to find the one question that I can actually answer.

"Charlie Swan. That guy she's been dating for 5 or so years. They had planned on doing this big destination wedding, but now she's thrown this in my face." I chuck the offensive invitation at her.

She picks it up, scans it. "It's in La Push? Isn't that where you used to live?"

I glare at her, though I know that none of this is her fault, pacing all over the room. "Yes, it's where I'm from. I swear to God, that place…it's pure evil. I can't go back there. I refuse. She's just gonna have to go through with her stupid freaking wedding without me."

Cassie pauses, "Leah…" she says slowly. "I'm sure your mom really wants you there."

"WELL THEN SHE SHOULD HAVE FREAKING THOUGHT OF THAT BEFORE PLANNING A WEDDING BACK IN FREAKING LAPUSH, SHOULDN'T SHE?" I explode, shaking from head to toe. Crap. I can't phase. Calm down, calm down…I need to calm down. I cannot explode in front of my roommate. That would upset her. And quite possibly kill her.

But in her weird way, Cassie somehow knows what to do. She crosses the room and reaches up to give me a hug. I welcome the physical contact, taking deep breaths until the shaking finally subsides. Thank freaking God. I can get a handle on myself.

Cassie pulls back, looking me up and down, though, she mostly looks up, since she's tiny. "You ok?" she asks, and I can tell that she's pretty freaking concerned.

"Yes, midget." I smirk.

"I will have you know that I'm two inches above the height of a legal midget, thank you very much!" she's pouting, but I can see the sides of her mouth quiver, so I know she's relieved.

I snort, then my eyes catch the invitation again. Frowning, I think about my options. I could disown Mom, and completely ignore everything and go on with my life. I seriously think about it for a moment. Life without La Push, life without Sam, and Emily, life without vampires and wolves and other monsters. It seems so…uncomplicated.

"I don't want anything to do with La Push." I whisper.

Cassie hears me. "You don't have to go, you know." She says gently. "But you should still tell your Mom why."

"Why?" I grumble.

Cassie sighs, "She cared enough to send you the stupid invitation in the first place. She wants you there. Just give her a call Leah, please?"

I glare at her. What does she know? Stupid little rich girl with the suburban house and a nuclear family- how can she possibly know what to do in a situation like this? She has no idea what I'm going through.

"I'm going to my room to study." I mutter, storming out of the living room and slamming my bedroom door.

~.~

Once inside my room, I cannot escape my cell phone. I glare at it like a petulant child, arms crossed. I know what I have to do. I know that I owe Mom a call, at the very least.

I pick up the phone and press the number that says "Mom House." I hold my breath- one ring goes by, two rings go by…I begin to think that maybe, just maybe she won't pick up and I'll get away with just leaving a message.

But someone picks up on the first ring. "Hello?"

I'd recognize that voice anywhere. "Seth?" I ask. "Is that you?"

"LEAH!" Seth shouts into the phone. Despite that fact that I'm really freaking mad, I have to laugh at his excitement. It's been awhile since I've been able to talk to Seth.

"How are you little bro? What's happening over there?"

"Not much. I got into a really bad fight with Paul the other day. I mean, it was accidental. I just made a comment about Rachel and all the sudden he went ballistic and nearly tore my head off. Literally. I had to get Sam to intervene just to survive." He laughs, as though it's hilarious. I try to laugh along, but the sound is way, way off.

I think Seth notices, because he immediately barrels forward, "Anyway, the girls are all buys getting ready for Mom's wedding. Emily's going way over the top- I think all those pregnancy hormones are making her even more housewifely than usual!"

I nearly choke. Mom's having EMILY plan the wedding? EMILY? Of all people, I thought that she understood how I felt about Emily. I mean, sure, I put on a happy face around her and others, pretend like we're ok, pretend I'm over what happened. Truth is, I'm still not. The way I see it, he still got taken away from me. And the fact that I understand what happened doesn't make it any easier.

Jesus Christ. Emily? I've been replaced with Emily?

"Seth…" I say, trying to moderate my breathing so that I sound calm, "Could you go get Mom for me? Please."

"Umm…Leah? Are you ok?" He sounds concerned. He should be concerned. I'm shaking like a hyperactive squirrel on crack.

But I don't want to scare him. He is my kid brother. "I'm fine, kid. Just need to talk to Mom. I swear that I'll call you later."

"Well…if you're sure…MOM! HEY MOM! COME TO THE PHONE! LEAH'S ON THE OTHER END." Ouch. Jeez Seth. I have to pull my cell away from my ear.

Even with the phone held at arm's length, I still hear footsteps running. I can hear my Mom say, "_Seth, why didn't you tell me she called?"_

"Leah?" She says, breathless. "It's so good to hear from you!"

"Yeah. Great." I can't muster up much enthusiasm. "When were you gonna tell me about all this wedding crap?"

I can hear her exhale sharply, hear her sink down into a chair. "Leah…" she says warily.

"Why wouldn't you tell me ahead of time? Letting me find out by a freaking piece of paper? That's low, Mom. I thought you cared more than that.""

"Leah…" she whispers. Jesus. She sounds as though I've punched her in the freaking stomach. You would think that she's the one being hopelessly betrayed here, not me. "It wasn't like that. Of course we care. I just thought it would be better for you to take some time to think about it, that's all. I wanted to see if you'd come back this summer. I thought if we gave you some time, maybe you'd come around. I thought…"

"Well you thought WRONG." I half shout at her. "Mom, you know why I left. Why would I want to come back to that? What about my life in La Push is worth reliving?"

Mom sniffs, and it almost sounds like she's crying, but then she says my name "Leah…" There's a deep breath, "Leah…I miss you. I'm going to need you this summer. Please…come back. Just for a few weeks this summer. Please…"

I've never heard Mom sound like this, or heard her sound so defeated. Scratch that. I've seen her defeated once, and that was back in her and Dad's bedroom, the night he died. She thought that Seth and I were sound asleep, but I'd gotten up to go grab something to eat downstairs. People had brought so much damn food, and I was about to phase, so I was always starving…even the cursed food that infuriating but well-meaning strangers brought out of pity seemed delicious.

Anyway, I heard some weird sniffling noises, so I peaked my head around the corner, and Mom's sitting there, just staring at this piece of paper in her hand. Her shoulders were shaking, and I realized that, for the first time, I was seeing my mother cry. And I hated it. I hated her for not being able to be strong all the time. I hated myself for barging in on her one private moment. I hated her for letting me barge in on her favorite moment. In all those instances of hate, I felt this really strange emotion I'd never felt for my mother before: pity. And I hated that too.

And so I promised myself that I'd never allow myself to see my mother like that again. And I never have. Not when they stuck Dad 6 feet underground, not when Seth and I left for that brief period of time, not even when I decided to move across the country and told her I was never coming back.

So the fact that she sounds like this now is serious. I know I need to be there. Mom needs me. I made a promise, if only to myself.

So I take a deep breath, knowing as I do that I'm sealing my fate for a summer of misery, "I'll be there next week, Mom. But I'm bringing a friend…"

**~.~.~**

_As always, I welcome any kind of feedback! Let me know what you think! :-)_


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